


To Have A Physical Soul

by namelessgal



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe- Daemons, Alternate Universe- His Dark Materials, F/F, OC Daemons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-06-07 06:24:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6789991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/namelessgal/pseuds/namelessgal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daemons; no one knows exactly where they come from or why humans have a physical representation of their souls – all that is known is that the daemon is their master’s physical soul and that the form they choose is representative of what they believe in most, whatever trait is most important to them. When the 100 are sent to the ground, their veins are filled to the brim with a drug that prevents their daemons from settling. Clarke watches as her daemon Malcolm constantly shifts as she struggles with who she is as a person, and where she stands. She watches as she and Malcolm are both affected by other's, how they change them, and how one person in particular shapes her to be strong and unbreakable. That person may just regret it now, because they were coming for her, consequences be damned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Landing

**Season 1 Part 1: The Landing**

Daemons; no one knows exactly where they come from or why humans have a physical representation of their souls – all that is known is that the daemon is their master’s physical soul and that the form they choose is representative of what they believe in most, whatever trait is most important to them. The daemons live as their masters do and cannot be far from them. Daemon’s made the Ark even more crowded than it already was.

To prevent overcrowding, it was agreed a few years after the thirteen stations became one, that anyone under the age of eighteen would be administrated a drug that would prevent their daemons from settling. Children were taught to be conservative of everything, including air and space. They were told that, once they were of age, to ensure that their daemon chose a small creature to imitate, to settle into.

Clarke Griffin, however, preferred to test the limits. Her daemon, Malcolm, was always shifting from fantastic beast to fantastic beast, depending on her mood, much to her mother’s displeasure and her father’s amusement. One moment, Malcolm might be a kitten, then the next an oversized lion, clumsily knocking over the tables in the Griffin quarters. It wasn’t unusual to see Clarke running down the halls, followed closely behind by a too large animal and Wells chasing after her, when they were both young, before her life went to hell.

When her father died, Malcolm favored the form of a ratty looking mourning dove, one that would crone soft tunes, the only company Clarke received in solitary. Malcolm retained that form until Wells visited, then he was a snarling tiger, launching himself at the boy, only to be held back by guards. While guards were busy holding her daemon back, Clarke had launched herself forward and pounded her fists into the boy who used to be her best friend. The commotion drew more guards to her cell, and she numbly remembers the jeers from the other delinquents. The extra guards tazed her, and pulled her convulsing body off of Wells, how just laid there looking shocked, and broken at her accusations. Electricity coursed through her body a second time and her world went black.

After that incident, Clarke was allowed no more visitors, even though her mother snuck her charcoal through security every once in a while, but she never saw her. The emotional outrage seemed to kick her out of her depressed funk, however; Malcolm was shifting again, unsettled. Some days he was an angry tiger, pacing the walls that confined them, others, a curious black cat, watching her intently as she covered the walls with drawings of the ground.

Then, one day, her life, and everyone else’s on the Ark, changed. Clarke would remember that day clearly for the rest of her life; jumping up from the floor, hands covered in dark charcoal as the guards yelled at her to back up, to hold out her wrist. She would remember how, suddenly, Malcolm was a panther, pouncing on a guard as she shoved the other and the two dashed into the hall, shutting the door of her cell behind them. How she’d slammed against the railing, both the impact and the sight of a hundred children being submitted to the same treatment she’d just escaped; what she assumed was death. When the door of her cell opened and the guards and their daemons had emerged from within, she ran.

Clarke right into the waiting arms of her mother, nearly knocking her raven daemon Mercutio, who was balanced precariously on her mother’s shoulder. She remembers how Malcolm had shifted into a mewling pup, betraying her fear as Abby told her that she was going to the ground, that she and the others were getting a second chance, how she should take care of herself and not worry about the others, before everything went black.

When she woke, there was a kink in her neck and she could just barely feel Malcolm’s soft tail draped over her shoulders, his hissing filling her senses; hissing that made sense when she looked to her left and saw Wells sitting there, looking sorrowful, as he explained how he managed to get on the drop ship. Desdemona, his daemon, was a tiny lizard clinging to his ragged shirt. As the dropship entered the Earth’s atmosphere and began to shake and rattle, Clarke accused him, to the surprise of the other delinquents surrounding them.

The boy floating in the air before them, Finn, hits the ceiling hard, and slams back into the ground, and lays there, held in place by gravity. The other boys who undid their harnesses are not so lucky, as Clarke finds them after the crash landing, covered in the gold dust of their daemons. The first of many deaths that she would be unable to prevent.

The girl raised under the floor boards is the first pair of feet to touch the green earth, at the insistence of her brother. The rest of the 100 aren't far behind, cheering and screaming jubilation to the uncaring sky. Clarke allows a brief moment of joy and wonder, allowing the vibrant colors to catch her eye, as birds take to the sky, startled by the delinquents, before unraveling the map to find where they'd been dropped. Malcolm, however, displayed her true joy of being on the ground, instantly shifting into a large golden dog, running about with other daemons, barking playfully and smelling everything.

Malcolm returns to her side quickly, however, when Finn asks what's wrong and her grim tone announces that they were dropped on the wrong damn mountain. And thus begins her position as a leader to the 100, beginning with an expedition for supplies, already gathering a band of loyal followers, one of them Octavia, the only sister from the Ark, and the sister to Bellamy Blake, someone who'd begin as a dictator, one who'd compete for the role of leadership within the 100, but become one who'd she'd trust without end.


	2. Unsettled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The delinquent's daemons settle and they whisper, yet Clarke and Malcolm remain unsettled.

**Season 1 Part 2: Unsettled**  
Some of the delinquents had accused her of being heartless, selfish, power hungry, among a slew of other insults. They had called her blind to the beauty and vibrant colors of the ground that called out to the artist in her. Later, when she and Bellamy had a sort of peace, they huddled together, daemons by they're sides, and murmured with unease about how she naturally took to being a leader, a killer. 

Even later, when the drugs fade from their systems and their daemons settle into their forms, they whisper more, about how she was unfeeling, unaffected, leaving her soul, her Malcolm to be unsettled. And when she was far from their sights, she'd turn to Malcolm for comfort, burying her face into fur, or clutching an avian form to her chest, asking herself if their murmurs were true.  
Octavia's daemon, Othello, is the first to settle into the form of a large stallion, speckled with white spots against a dark flank. She says nothing to Bellamy, or even Finn, but she suspects that the Grounder with a calm bobcat, the one who showed her how to be so much more than the second sibling, has something to do with the form Othello settled in.

Well's daemon, Desdemona, doesn't have a chance to settle; he's killed by the unassuming Charlotte, who then pitches herself off a cliff, both of their daemons leaving behind an unnerving coating of gold Dust when their humans leave the world. Murphy is held responsible, something Clarke thought was the right thing to do, yet it haunts her. His coyote, Bianca, slinking behind them, yellow eyes glowing slightly in the darkness. 

When Raven's crashes to the ground and holds tight to Finn, his eyes meeting Clarke's as a small piece of her breaks, his daemon Cressida avoids the hurt look of Malcolm and settles into the shape of a badger. Raven's soul Cassio chatters excitedly, clapping his small hands together and clings to Cressida's back, inviting her to play. The small primate is almost comical in comparison to Cressida's larger badger form. 

They don't say it, but Clarke can tell that Malcolm's indecision on what to settle as disturbs even Bellamy and Viola, the weasel chittering nervously from Bellamy's shoulders anytime Malcolm goes too close. Eventually, they learn to trust her, but their unease doesn't truly fade.

It's an advantage, however, Malcolm's sudden change in form taking the angry Grounder leader, Anya by surprise and causing her daemon to flash its overly large fangs at the pair on the bridge, causing tensions to rise higher. Malcolm shifts again into a large panther, growling at the Grounders, hackles raised. Lincoln and his Mariana, who'd taken the form of a bobcat, are the only reason they did not start fighting before Jasper fired his rifle. Learning that it's an advantage on the battlefield, Clarke and Malcolm plot to utilize it as much as they can.

When the fight against the Grounder reaches the drop ship, Malcolm shifts from beast to beast knocking Grounders down as they clear a path to the ship that'd dropped them on the cursed, beautiful, horrible and wonderful earth. Raven's inside, propped against a metal container, barely holding onto consciousness and hands Clarke the button, telling her to do what is necessary as Jasper closes the drop ship's door. There's barely an opening, but Anya and her large feline daemon with the overgrown teeth launch themselves into the drop ship, teeth and claws bared, swords drawn. The door closes and Clarke meets Anya's eyes, leaning into the wolf that was Malcolm for support, and pushes the button, dooming hundreds of Grounders and their daemons to a painful and fiery death. 

Clarke can feel Malcolm shudder, shift, and stumble, and she feels in her very bones that he's finally settled. The door opens and a canister is thrown in, spewing red gas before she can see what he has settled as. The last thing she sees is Anya flinging herself to her daemon as he collapses, shouting his name and falling limp across his body in the same moment.

The name Orsino rings in her ears as masked men flood into the drop ship, their voices muffled beneath their plastic. Her head thumps heavily against the metal ground and the sensation of being lifted is the last thing she knows.

 


	3. Where It Really Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Mount Weather. By the way, here's an overgrown cat.

**Season 2: Part 1: Where It Really Begins**

After months being surrounded by vibrant greens and musky browns, waking to see a blinding, sterile white surrounding her was nothing shot of ominous in Clarke's mind. Her heart jolted into her throat; she couldn't feel anything - she couldn't feel Malcolm. The blonde screwed her eyes shut and reached out with her mind, pushing through the haze that had made her queasy. Once through the haze, sensations and feelings, Malcolm's thoughts and being rushed back into her mind, soothing her distress. He was close, closer than she had thought.

 _'Open your eyes, Clarke'_ his familiar voice purred into her mind, with a teasing lilt to it underneath the fury and worry. She listened, opening her eyes again to be blinded by the white walls surrounding her. A machine beeped beside her, the rhythm pounding in beat with the pounding in her head. She raised a hand to her forehead, trying to appease the headache that was forming, feeling a slight resistance at her wrist. Glancing down, she saw a needle plunged into her vein, leading to an IV.

 _'Where are we? Where are you_?' Clarke sent through her bond as she yanked the needle out of her wrist, pushing herself out of her cot to examine the room further. Her bare feet touched the cold tile floor and for a second, she shied away from it shivering, a sensation sent through their bond, the feeling of shivering sent in reply. Her shoes were gone, as were her clothes, in their place sterile white clothes that were fraying at the edges - much like the recycled clothes on the Ark.

 _'I do not know, but we are not far apart - I can still feel you_.' Indeed, Clarke could feel Malcolm's presence, nearby, but he was nowhere to be seen. A movement caught her eye as she strode forward to the small circular window. A form was pacing back and forth in what looked to be an identical room as her own. She peered out her window, eyes squinting trying to make out who it was, when the form did a double take and looked out it's own window. His mouth moved, forming the words Clarke?

"Monty?" She breathed, half in relief (he had survived, he was okay) half in fear, (where were the others, where were they?). A plaque to the right of Monty's room caught her eye, revealing just where they were

 **MOUNT WEATHER QUARANTINE WARD** was hanging almost ominously over a self of blood bags and vials. Monty craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of what had Clarke horrified and mystified at a single look. She backed away from the door in shock, until the back of her legs hit the metal of the bed, the cold wakening her from her stupor and her mind reached out to the comfort of Malcolm's.

_'Mount Weather... how is this even possible? More survivors?'_

_'Clarke, they're watching us_.' This simple statement sent a new flood of fear and adrenaline through her veins. She glanced quickly around the room, her eyes eventually landing on the object that spied on her.

' _I see it,_ ' Clarke scowled into the dark lenses of the camera and she could almost here the motors whirl as it zoomed in on her. She crossed the room to the corner where the camera was hanging, sliding down to the ground, crossing her legs and prepared for a long wait, the cold floor no longer a bother to her. The young leader played with the edges of her clean, white clothes.

 _'We have to find the others and get out of here._ ' She whispered into Malcolm's mind. He was silent for a moment, then;

' _Was Margery with Monty?'_ Clarke stopped fiddling with the loose thread at the mention of Monty's raccoon daemon, tilting her head to the side in thought.

 _'It didn't seem like she was; Monty was anxious. Or at least, he seemed to be._ ' They way the small boy had paced was reminiscent in her mind, an image that she sent to her daemon. He made a thoughtful noise of agreement.

Clarke roamed her eyes over the room once more, taking in the furniture, the bed, the toilet and sink, look for a weapon. Her eyes fell upon the IV stand again. It could make do, but it'd be too unwieldy in a real fight.

' _We can not do anything right now Clarke_.'

 _'I know,'_ she whispered back, leaning forward to rest her chin on her knees, her eyes drooping slightly. _'I just want to know where the others are - where my people are. And what's happened to them.'_ She felt Malcolm yawn over their bond. ' _Well, at least you got comfortable quarters. I have been chained to the wall by these deplorable creatures._ ' A wave of discomfort passed through their bond and Clarke jerked awake again.

 _'Did they hurt you? Are you alright?_ ' Malcolm's amusement bled into her mind. ' _You already know the answer to that, little one. I tried to bite one of those foolish men and, as retribution, I assume, they collared me. Though, I suppose, it could have been for their own safety.'_

 _'Don't scare me like that, you idiot.'_ Clarke slumped against the cold wall again. She could feel satisfaction leaking through the bond, slight as it was. Her head hit the white bricks behind her, the cold bleeding through her thin shirt easily. She rubbed her arms, trying to warm herself up.

_'What'd you settle as Malcolm?'_

_"Wouldn't you like to know?'_

_' Hey! I'm your human! Shouldn't I be allowed to know?'_

_'You'll have to see with your own two eyes, then_.' Clarke felt uneasy for a moment.

' _What if I don't see you again though._ ' Silence. Clarke could feel Malcolm's own unease, then his false bravado.

' _I'd like to see them try to kill us now_.' He huffed. 'Now quiet. I'm trying to sleep.'

_'Hey, we've got to get out of here, not sleep!'_

_'Try to find something else to entertain yourself, little one.'_

_'Fine, be like that, you lazy lump_.' Malcolm didn't answer, but Clarke could feel his amusement. She opened her eyes again, tiredly casting her eyes across the room again. They landed on a blue painting, a startling contrast of color in the all white room. Clarke pushed herself to her feet, walking closer to examine it, briefly lost in its whirling colors of blue and white and spots of yellow, prominent against a black tower. A movement caught in the corner of her eye, and she tore herself away from the painting, moving to the door.

Out of nowhere, a figure clothed in a blue hazmat suit peered into her room as she peered out. Clarke took a step back, startled and the figure turned away, moving into Monty's now empty room.

Monty. What happened to Monty?

' _Malcolm, Monty's gone!'_

 _'What!'_ He roared into her mind - her daemon was rather fond of Monty and his mischievous Margery. Clarke felt a slight pain around her neck and she could only assume that Malcolm had lunged against his collar. She banged on the window, shouting at the figure who was now spraying down the bed and furniture in Monty's room.

 _'One of our abductors is in his room. It looks like he's sanitizing the room.'_ Malcolm's angry bled through their bond, stronger than before, influencing her. She stepped back from the door, quickly casting a desperate glance around the room, her eyes lighting upon the metal IV stand.

She glared into the camera, daring her watchers to stop her, then crossed the room quickly and grabbed the top part of the IV, pulling it free, then using it to knock the camera free from the wall. Working quickly and fueled by Malcolm's anger, she broke the glass window, dropping the IV and carelessly reaching her hand through the opening to the lock. She felt around for the metal knob, turning it, and withdrew her arm, scraping the underside of her wrist against the broken glass.

Malcolm hissed into her mind, his hiss in tandem to her own gasp of pain. ' _Careful! You hurt, and I hurt too! So please, no dying._ ' Ignoring her pain, she pushed open the door quietly, stepping forward carefully, pausing only to crouch and pick up a sharp shard of the glass, holding it in her hand as a makeshift weapon. It was a wonder that the person had not turned already at the sound of breaking glass, but the blonde was going to take no chances, proceeding forward nearly silent, leaving only a trail of blood and broken glass in her wake.

The glass shard bit into her hand as Clarke rushed towards the figure and ripped off their mask, revealing a young surprised girl with headphones in her ears. 'S _he's a fool. No wonder she did not hear your approach.'_

"What are you doing?" The young, dark haired girl asked, taking Clarke's freedom almost too calmly. She suddenly panicked, pulling the headphones out of her ears. "I'll be contaminated!" Fear shined her eyes, but for what Clarke considered the wrong reasons. 'Contamination will be the least of the girl's fears.' Malcolm seemed to find amusement in that angry statement, but he could not hide his underlying sense of worry from Clarke as she rushed forward and pushed the girl, against the white wall, pressing the makeshift weapon to her pale pulsing throat, Clarke's bright blood ruining the pristine-ness of the ward and the girl's clothes.

Something moved underneath the suit and Clarke wrapped an arm around the girl's neck, freeing the hand with the glass, getting ready to stab what ever was approaching the opening in the girl's suit. A small nose peaked out, whiskers twitch and Clarke could barely make out beady eyes reflecting the light and she quickly brought the glass down.

"Wait, don't that's my daemon Philip!" Clarke stilled her hand a hairs breadth away from the mouse, and allowed it to scurry back into the girl's clothes. The girl's eyes showed an ounce of relief, but were still drowned in fear.

"Where is my daemon? Where's my friend, the one that was in here?!" The steel in Clarke's voice was enough to make her pause, then press harder against the other girl, the sharp glass demanding an answer.

"Look he's fine, they're fine, they're all fine! Okay? Look you don't understand - " Clarke doesn't allow her to finish, pulling the girl off the wall, wrapping an arm around her neck and forcing her to walk forward.

"Take me to my daemon." She hisses and the duo begin to walk down the hall, and out into another hall, lined with doors leading to slightly smaller rooms. As they made their way down the hall, Clarke could feel her connection with Malcolm grow stronger, telling her that this wasn't a trap, and that the girl had listened to her. They stopped in front of a door locked with an elctro magnetic dead lock, a scanner to the right of it. She pressed the knife harder into the girl's throat, allowing it to bite and draw a bead of blood.

"Clarke, you're bleeding!" Her voice was shaky, and breath fast and desperate. Clarke pinned the girl to the wall and growled at her;

"How do you know my name!"

"It - it was on your chart!" The girl stuttered. "Please don't hurt me!"

"You want to survive? You'll help me." She forced the girl a few more steps forward, and the dark haired girl reached for the scanner, only to be shoved back into the wall, the glass pointed at her throat.

"I don't think so." Clarke's eyes were dangerous and her voice bleeding with anger, and a promise.

"K-keycard." The girl stuttered. The blonde hesitated for a moment, before jerking her head to the scanner.

"Open it!" With a shaky hand, the girl complied, sliding the key-card through the scanner so that the light blinked green and the machine released a small beep, the door opening a little bit.

Clarke shoved the girl forward, forcing her to open the door all the way. A deep growl sounded from within the the small room, and Clarke followed the other girl in. What she saw made her jaw drop and the glass waver away from the girl's throat in shock.

"Malcolm?" She didn't really need to ask - she could feel him, and this magnificent beast was indeed him. He had settled into the form of a large cat with fur so dark, it almost put the darkness of space that they'd grown up with to shame. His hackles were raised, making him appear larger than he already was and Clarke could just barely see the startlingly white teeth bared through the muzzle on his face.

His tail twitched, and he sat back on his haunches, looking far too pleased for a prisoner.

"I was always rather fond of this form, little one." His words were slightly muffled and slurred due to the muzzle, but his voice still held the amusement and fondness that he was known among their friends for. He tilted his head to the side slightly, examining the girl Clarke held captive, the movement bringing Clarke's attention to the collar around his neck and the chain connecting it to the wall.

"Did you bring her here to free me?" Clarke nodded. "And to find Monty."

The girl slowly raised her hands and spoke, voice shaking, "Look you don't understand -"

"Quiet!" Malcolm growled, causing the girl to pale and snap her mouth shut. Clarke nudged her forward, ordering her to free her daemon. The girl did so quickly, releasing him from his restraints, her gloves preventing her from ever truly touching Clarke's better half. Once free of the collar and muzzle, Malcolm stretched, yawing as loudly as he could and shook himself. He padded forward to stand before his human, causing Clarke to truly realize just how big he was; his head was level with her own, his vibrant green eyes peering into her bright blue ones with ease.

"Hello again, Little One." He purred, nuzzling Clarke slightly, causing her to let out a small laugh. She rubbed him behind his ear, relishing in the comfort that a single touch between the two gave them both.

"So that's why you've been calling me little one - because you're now an abnormally large cat!"

"Panther, actually," Malcolm huffed. "I am an abnormally large panther. And your soul had to match your ego's size in some way." Clarke grinned wildly.

"Now, shall we find the others?" Malcolm gave the dark haired girl an angry look, once again bringing Clarke back to the present situation. Together, Clarke and Malcolm forced the young girl forward, telling her to take them to their friends. The girl lead them at knife point (glass point?) to a rustic elevator, once again sliding her key-card into a scanner to open the doors to the ancient machine. Once inside, Clarke pinned the girl to one of the walls, a snarl on the blonde's face that matched the one on Malcolm's.

"Which level?" They growled as one, and the girl reached out a shaking hand, hitting the button adorned with the number five, causing the elevator to start up and move. Clarke kept the knife firmly at the girl's throat, and Malcolm hissed at the stranger, cramped in the elevator. A movement caught Clarke's eye and she glanced to her left, surprised to see a tarnished mirror. She saw herself and what she saw made her pause.

' _I look like a Grounder.'_ Indeed, there was a feral, almost wild look in her eyes, blood, sweat, and dirt on her face.

' _No_ ,' Malcolm whispered, ' _You look like a warrior.'_ Clarke didn't respond, instead looking back at the terrified girl.

"Who are you people? Where are my people? How many of their are you?" She shouted at the girl, who just sobbed, terrified. "How many of my people are here? Answer me!" Still the girl continued to sob. "Say something!" Clarke was growing desperate, but her interrogation was interrupted by a mechanical voice announcing that they had arrived on level five. She forced the girl in front of her again, holding the shard firmly to her throat as they exited the elevator, followed closely behind by a growling Malcolm.

They marched forward, but the sound of classical music caused Clarke to stop in surprise, Malcolm drawing to a halt next to her. Her hand wavered and the girl took the opportunity, breaking free from the blonde and running into the hall crowded with people, where the sounds of cheerful voices, clanking silverware, and gentle, classical music escaped. The short shrieks of terror that the girl emitted running into the hall were out of place, and all Clarke and Malcolm could do was stand there and gape at the sheer amount of people gorging themselves on fine food, all of them wearing fancy, yet worn clothes.

"Where the hell are we?" She whispered, more afraid now than she was before.

It was an odd moment of peace and confusion for the girl and her panther daemon, on that was broken by an old woman catching sight of her and yelling about a contamination breach, causing a mass panic. Men wearing beige uniforms and heavily armed quickly surrounded her as the mass of people fled out the opposite opening, several of them screaming in terror. A few were left behind, looking confused and scared, unsure of what was going on around them.

The men yelled for her to get on the ground, cocking their guns as their daemons growled and snapped at Malcolm. She slowly raised her hands, allowing the glass to fall to the ground, coated in her own blood.

 _'This is a fight we cannot win, Malcolm. Stand down.'_ Clarke slowly knelt to the ground, and Malcolm allowed the daemons to back him into a corner, growling and snapping, hackles raised, teeth bared and ears flat against his head. One of the men stepped forward and roughly shoved her to the ground, her fall forcing Malcolm to his knees as well, as they cuffed her and yanked her back to her feet, marching her back down the hall she'd just come from. They brought her past the quarantine ward and into a room labeled 'Medical Ward', opening the door with a swipe of a key-card.

Inside, it was not pristinely white like the quarantine ward, but rather a homely muted brown, with cots lining both walls. The men deposited her on one such cot and strapped her wrists to the bed with leather restraints. They then collared Malcolm, leashing him to the same bed.

The leather restraints were too tight, squeezing her wrists, too tight for her to wriggle out of, despite her efforts. Malcolm's collar was also too tight, making it difficult for both of them to breathe. Once both of them were secured, a dark skinned woman with wavy hair stepped forward, adorned in a lab coat, introducing herself as Doctor Tsing, a daemon nowhere in sight. Clarke stopped struggling just long enough for her to attend to her arm. As soon as the doctor left, shadowed by them men that had brought her here, Clarke ressumed her attempts to get free. Malcolm, however, held perfectly still, not wishing to choke himself any further on his collar.

It wasn't long before the door to the medical ward opened again and more men ( _Guards_ , Malcolm whispered in her mind, _high ranking and well trained)_ followed closely by an elderly man who held himself with dignity and power. An old, gray owl was perched on his shoulder. The girl they'd taken hostage was with them, clothed in a yellow sundress, revealing her sickly pale skin. The doctor and the old men exchanged a few words, asking about her arm, mentioning her silence and the savages.

The man raised an arm, gesturing for the girl to step forward, introducing her as Maya, her mouse daemon also perched on her shoulder, nervously cleaning his whiskers. The girl, Maya had angrily told her how she, Clarke, was going to be cleared from quarantine in a short ten minutes before she'd escaped - the blonde allowed a small smirk at the sight of wariness in everyone's eyes, and Malcolm twitched his tale, his whiskers lifting slightly, betraying his own amusement, even as Maya whispered that she wasn't pressing charges.

' _As if their law dictates the land_.' It was difficult to hide the snort of amusement that Malcolm caused with his commentary. It was even harder to hide the feral gleam in their eyes when the man told his men that restraints weren't necessary, because, if he want to keep breathing, yes they really were.

The man introduced himself as President Dante Wallace and his daemon as Sycorax, and Clarke just barely refrained from asking if it was a hereditary position or if his people actually voted him in. He tells her about Mount Weather, gives her clothes, has Malcolm's collar removed (the fear in the guards' eyes greatly amused the panther) and even invited the duo to dinner, after seeing that their people were safe. Still, something did not seem right to Clarke, something that Malcolm felt too, so she armed herself with a broken heel.

Dante meets her in the hall, his owl immediately demanding the broken heel before they continue on with their tour. She parts with it, mentally agreeing with the grumble Malcolm releases. Dante goes to give her the tour, explaining their power source, and their weakness, why they were hiding in the mountain, even a centuary after the war. He takes her to where her people and their daemons rest, and they engulf her in hugs, the daemons crowding around Malcolm as he preens about his settled form. Still, something does not seem right to her - even less so when she's told she cannot leave.

Jasper and Monty give her the run down on their status as they engorge themselves on foods they've never had - the two boys don't have the same feeling as she does, too focused on the kindness they've been shown. It doesn't become clear to her just how much she's on her own until her hand is on the lever of a door, Maya pointing a gun at her and Jasper and his squirrel daemon Juilet are begging her not to open the door.

Malcolm convinces her to stand down for the moment, to enjoy this while they can, but to keep their eyes and ears open, looking for a way out, and she agrees, sitting down at the table with her people and enjoying the food that has an impossible amount of taste to it.

Yet, something is still wrong - she and Malcolm just never suspected how wrong until they were looking at Anya through the bars of her cage and at her malnourished daemon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> List of Daemons and Symbolism  
> Here's a list of the introduced character's daemons so far, and the symbolism behind said animals. This will be updated as characters and their daemons are introduced into the story. The two sites I used for referance are: http://onespiritx.tripod.com/magick18.htm and http://www.warpaths2peacepipes.com/native-american-culture/meaning-of-animals.htm  
> \- Malcolm - Clarke Griffin - Black Panther - Astral Travel, Guardian Energy, Symbol of the Feminine, Understanding of Death, Reclaiming Ones Power, Ability to Know the Dark, Death, Rebirth, Swiftness, Cunning, Strength, Perseverance, Boldness, Beauty,. Gaining Confidence. I thought Clarke having a panther daemon would tie nicely into being Wanheda, and I may expand on this symbolism, giving it it's own among Grounder culture. Originally, I could not decide between a panther or a cougar for Clarke.  
> \- Mercutio - Abby Griffin - Raven - Healing, Initiation, Protection, Magic, Shapeshifting, Creation, Help with Divination, Wisdom, Eloquence, Magick of the Crone, Trickster, Teacher, Hoarder. Healing and a trickster? Seems to fit Abby.  
> \- Desdemona - Wells Jaha- Unsettled - Wells, unfortunately, was killed before his daemon could settle.  
> \- Othello - Octavia Blake- Stallion/horse - The horse symbolizes mobility, stamina, strength and power. And usually, horses are associated with free spirits.  
> \- Bianca - John Murphy - Coyote - The coyote symbolizes cunning, stealth and humor. Cunning? Yes? Stealthy? He's certainly deceptive. And he deflects with humor and sarcasm.  
> \- Cressida - Finn Collins - Badger - The badger symbolizes boldness, is outgoing and a good communicator. Before he went batshit crazy and massacred a village, I feel as though this aptly describes how Finn was, and how he was willing to talk to the Grounders. I promise that it has nothing to due with Hufflepuffs, though Finn does seem to be a rather good finder.  
> \- Cassio - Raven Reyes - Spider Monkey - The monkey is a symbol meaning fun, activity, charm and an energetic nature. It is one of the signs of the Chinese zodiac which shows a person who has many friends. It is a sign of natural curiosity, but can show self-indulgence and rebellion. That, and well, grease monkey. Enough said  
> \- Viola - Bellamy Blake - Weasel - The weasel symbolizes boldness and courage. It was either weasel or opossum; I decided on the weasel because of the small size and because Bellamy doesn't strike me as the strategic type  
> \- Mariana - Lincoln - Bobcat - The bobcat symbolizes independence, clear vision and self-reliance. Okay, do I really need to explain this one?  
> \- Orsino - Anya - Saber tooth Tiger - I couldn't find symbolism for a saber tooth, and, honestly, I just wanted to give Anya a bad ass daemon. Symbolism for a tiger however is power, Energy, Strength and Will-Power in the Face of Adversity, Acting in a Timely Manner, Action Without Analysis, Passion, Devotion, Sensuality, which I think aptly describes Anya.  
> \- Margery - Monty Green - Raccoon - The raccoon symbolizes curiosity, adaptability and resourcefulness. Monty's a curious individual - remember the berries? He's rather adaptable and resourceful as well, and I honestly don't think the 100 would've gotten very far without him.  
> \- Philip - Mouse - Maya - The mouse symbolizes observation and diligence as well as being quiet and sneaky. Considering all the ways Maya helped the 100 in the Mountain, I thought it rather fitting.  
> \- Sycorax - Owl - Dante Wallace - Silent and Swift Movement, Seeing Behind Masks, Keen Sight, Messenger of Secrets and Omens, Shape-Shifting, Link Between the Dark, Unseen World and the World of Light, Comfort with Shadow Self, Moon Magick, Freedom, Silent Wisdom, Nocturnal Vision, Healing Powers, Magical, Detachment, Change, the Mystery of Magic, Omens, the Arts, Watchfulness, Night Magicks, Truth, Patience.


End file.
